


Episode Five: "Disguises"

by SilverSnake15



Series: "Hood" (Fictional TV Show) [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Amnesia, Blood, Corruption, Disguise, Gang, Gen, Gotham, Gotham City - Freeform, Lie, Memory Loss, Police, drug, drug trade, knife, mental health, stab, thug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-01 20:18:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4033195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSnake15/pseuds/SilverSnake15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason decides to ignore his worsening mental health, so that he may continue his work against the crime in Gotham. In the meantime, he meets a possible ally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ...

Jason sized up the slightly smaller man—who was known to most as Poor Man Jimmy, a thug who worked for whoever would hire him—as they circled one another. Both held knives, and both had some experience. In the fight that was about to go down, however, sometimes winning required nothing but luck and maybe a little brute force.  _I've got one of those_.

Suddenly, the criminal lunged. Jason dodged Jimmy's first few strikes with ease and shoved him so he was off balance. Unfortunately for the latter, he dropped like dead weight, making a loud thud when he hit the ground. The vigilante took a pistol out of its holster, too lazy to finish the job by bending down. But before he could pull the trigger the man on the ground groaned and turned over to face him, eyes widening upon seeing the gun. And then the Red Hood's next victim morphed into the image of himself in his old Robin suit— _dead_.

He felt his blood run cold, then cursed loudly as the hired hand's knife stabbed into his leg. Jason fired off no less than five quick shots into Jimmy, and studied his handiwork. Each bullet was in a different part of the body. None of the injuries were fatal, which was exactly what the Red Hood wanted. He picked up his victim, roughly pinning him against the brick wall with both hands.

"I'll ask again, for the /last/ time. What deals are going down this week?"

"I-I dunno," the man muttered, shivering from the cold breeze and the pain he felt, "H-Honest!" Jason turned to the man's shoulder and calmly yet roughly picked at a bullet, making him scream and shudder. "PLEASE! I don't know!"

"Let him go." _Bruce._ Batman was on the other end of the narrow alley, his dark costume practically melting into the shadows he was concealed in. But Jason Todd already knew that the masked figure was there; he wasn't intimidated by the Bat's sudden appearance at all. He only tightened his grip on Jimmy's shirt and used the forefinger and thumb of his hand to toy with another bullet, earning him another shrill scream from Jimmy. _I'm gettin' my goddamn information, whether or not he 'approves'._ "I said, let him go. He just got out of jail; he doesn't know anything about the recent operations."

Reluctantly, Jason let Jimmy go, and scowled as he watched the thug run away. "What the hell do you want? You just cost me an hour's worth of work, and now I have a fuckin' stab wound." Jason hissed. The older man stepped out of the shadows, face devoid of any emotion. _As usual_. 

"A few different criminal groups are meeting tomorrow. You won't be able to /kill/ all of them"—Jason smirked as he heard the edge in the Bat's voice—"But you should be able to gather sufficient evidence."

"Evidence for what?"

"Taking down Black Mask. It's what you've been hell-bent on doing for the past few weeks, anyway. All of the gangs participating report to him." This time, Batman was smug as his former student frowned.

"Just gimme whatever you have. But don't think I'm /asking/ for your help, Bruce. I never have."

"Of course not," he replied, handing over a flash drive. Jason took it and got on his motorcycle without another word, relaxing as the distance between he and Bruce got wider and wider. After he hid his bike, he climbed up to his window and slipped inside.

* * *

_He can't believe it._

_He doesn't, at first. He looks around cautiously, wondering if this is a prank; it has to be._

_There is no way in hell that he, a thirteen-year old tire thief, would be the one who finds the Batmobile abandoned in an alley. His luck is obviously shitty since he's a starving orphan. But it's just /sitting/ there, big and black, Batman's car, only a few feet away. The tires can easily go for a thousand dollars (maybe less, since Harry could be an asshole), and he won't have to worry about food for months; he'll be able to actually buy it, rather than steal it from others or scrounge around in the trash bins outside the few restaurants in the Narrows. If, of course, he can do this without getting caught by the owner of the car._

_He grabs his tire iron and hurriedly begins to loosen the first one. Once he pulls it off, he lets out a small sound of victory, then clamps his hand over his mouth—if someone else finds his prize, he'll have to fight, and the bruises he still has from last time won't help him. That makes him work faster, and soon he's got the second tire off._

_"What the-?" He turns and slightly pees his pants. Shit, it's /him/, the Bat. He tries to run, but the big guy stands in his way. So he hits him in the stomach with the tire iron and takes off, going home. He realizes how close he was to food and weakly hits the wall of the room he's staying in, before sitting down and taking a smoke._

_"Those'll stunt your growth."_

_Dammit, he found him. Of course, the guy /was/ freaking Batman. He stamped out the cigarette and flicked it somewhere. "Where's your parents?" the caped man asked._

_"I don't /got/ any. My old man left years ago. Mom...my mom OD'd not too long ago. You gonna turn me in?" he snapped._

_"I don't see the point; I have my property. Come on."_

_"Where're we going?" First they'd go to Ma Gunn's School for Boys, where he got beat up worse there than he did on the streets and discovered that the little old lady was running a crime ring. Then he and the Bat headed to the guy's cave, and the Bat—who turned out to be Bruce Wayne, of all people—let him stay._

_He never /asked/ for help._

* * *

"Fuck," Jason growled, holding his head. Ever since he came back to life, his memory had been fractured, and he could only remember certain things from before he died. Up until today, nightmares and occasional headaches were his worst problem. Now it was flashbacks and dizzy spells. Oh, and he ended up feet from where he was before. He slowly got to his feet and made some coffee while he checked the information Bruce had given him.

He had to admit, it was pretty good stuff. There were profiles on all of the people who were attending (the major ones like Two Face and Penguin were either locked up in Blackgate Prison or preferred to send representatives rather than endanger themselves), from the guys who kept record, to the guys who controlled blocks of the entire city. "I'd never say it to your face, but thanks, Bruce," he muttered.

Jason grabbed a beer from his poorly stocked fridge and swaggered back to the computer with a half-grin. Now all he had to do was choose one of the low-profile guys who was around  his height and build, then hide them somewhere and go to the meeting, impersonating them all the while. _It was like the ghetto Gotham version of Halloween._ _This would be fun_.

* * *

He had made his outfit from some of his spare clothes, as well as from the actual guy he was impersonating (in this case, Tommy Bracken). Before he knocked the snot out of Tommy and tied him to his own bed, Jason looked the man up and down. Their clothes matched, minus the baseball cap Tommy wore. So Jason took it, jammed it on his head, and went to the gang meeting.

Everyone save a few bodyguards from each gang was expected to leave their weapons at the door, yet he could tell that each person was concealing at least one knife and gun. He held in a chuckle; scum had no sense of loyalty. First, the group went over finances, which was basically the money amassed from the various drug, slave, and illegal arms trade throughout the city. It bored Jason, but he made sure to switch on the small recorder he carried. Next, the men (there were a few women) discussed turf boundaries. Jason liked this part; people had started to yell and scream like toddlers fighting for toys.

"This is the police! Come out with your hands up!" _Dammit, and he had almost gotten all his information_. Not to mention that he now had the issue of slipping away before he could be arrested. Luckily, some trigger-happy idiot grabbed his gun and shot somebody, starting a firefight, and a few brawls. _Awesome_.

He took his chance and ran, glad that he had decided to wear one of his bulletproof vests under his clothes. Jason was about to turn the corner when he heard footsteps behind him. Turning quickly, he drew his gun and pointed at the cop who had followed him.


	2. ...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason decides to ignore his worsening mental health, so that he may continue his work against the crime in Gotham. In the meantime, he meets a possible ally.

The cop didn't have his gun raised. He wasn't even reaching for it. _Ha, the jackass_.

But Jason hadn't shot him. _Why?_

The guy was a few inches shorter than him, and more lean. Yet he still seemed to be in good shape. Judging by his features, he was European, and fairly attractive too. Still, none of that was what caught Jason's attention. What did was the fact that the cop was smiling, blue eyes almost twinkling in the dark.

"The hell are you laughing at?" Jason grumbled.

"You're just...you don't look very happy to see me," the guy replied, chuckling.

"'Course not, you're a fuckin' cop!" The twinkle in the man's eyes died out, and his smile faded.

"But-"

"What did you expect, a hug?"

"...are you gonna shoot me?"  _Why hadn't he?_ If the guy called for help, he'd have a problem. It would be easier to end him and get away before anyone figured out where they were, before the firefight ended. But every time Jason was about to pull the trigger, something stopped him. And he didn't like that thing, whatever it was.

"Did you come here to arrest me? Because that's not happening."

"Actually, I came to give you this." The officer held up Jason's recorder, the product of all his hard work (and maybe a tiny bit of Bruce's). "You dropped it when you ran out. I figured you must be one of the vigilantes, because we didn't have any wired guys in there. So I thought I'd give it to you."

Jason opened his mouth to say a rare thank you, before he frowned and grit his teeth.

"What d'you want in return?" Though a few were okay, like Commissioner Gordon, most of the Gotham City Police Department (especially those in Blüdhaven, where the meeting had taken place) was corrupt officers who accepted bribes in exchange for throwing away evidence, murdering innocents, or things like this. Still, the officer blinked, confused.

"You mean for this?"

"Yes." _Here it comes._

"Uh, a promise not to shoot me maybe? Lower your gun until I leave?" _Oh_. Jason slowly lowered his gun, still expecting cops to run in. But none did. The officer calmly walked forward and handed him the recorder, then smiled again. "You're the Red Hood, aren't you?"

"How-"

"I could tell you were a good guy. Plus I work with Batman sometime; he told me to bring the guys here. I'm Officer Grayson," he practically chirped, thrusting his hand out to shake the other man's hand. Jason couldn't help but pocket the recorder and chuckle, shaking hands.

"You don't mind me murdering a few hundred?" Grayson half-smiled.

"I prefer helping people without killing. But sometimes you have to use the gun."

"You're alright, Grayson. A little crazy, but alright." The gunshots finally stopped. "Better get going. Maybe I'll see you around?"

"That'd be cool." Jason nodded, jumped to scale a fire escape, and left, heading to his place to listen to the recordings. He didn't hear Grayson whisper, "Night, Jason."

**Author's Note:**

> This took a while...sorry!


End file.
